airbaths | BRAVEST AND MOST NOBLE • merlot post

Merlin has always been a little different.

In a village as small as Ealdor rumours spread quickly, suspicion is as difficult to deal with as the petty gossip. People are as quick to protect as they are to ostracise.

Merlin has learnt this the hard way.

Yet through all of it there has been Will and Lance. His closest friends. Without them Merlin is sure he would have never become the person he is, without their encouragement and their friendship and compassion.

Lancelot, certainly, is the kindest and noblest man Merlin knows. While Will has always been more cynical, cautious, guarded -- Lance is open, wears his heart on his sleeve. They've been in endless trouble together, because it isn't just that Lance does not fear Merlin's gifts. More than that, he accepts and encourages them. Merlin well knows there is danger in that, that not everyone thinks the way Lance does, but when Lance smiles at him tells him things are fine Merlin can't do anything but believe it is true.

He feels safe around the man, and Merlin things anyone would have trouble not to.

Such things cannot last forever, though.

He sighs as he pulls up another stray weed from the grass, frowning down at Ealdor below them. Merlin knew he never really belonged here, felt it in his bones, but the idea of leaving is still a difficult one. Ealdor is still his home.

"Do you think I'll make friends there? In Camelot."

Part of him is curious, almost excited, but Camelot feels so big and so far away and he can't help but doubt a little. What if he doesn't? What if everyone hates him? What if he messes up and gets in trouble?

"Hold still," Merlin chides gently, and he grins as Lance tries not to fidget -- leaning back a little as he slips a band around the bottom of the tiny braid he's woven in his hair. "Oh, very nice, you look utterly charming."

He squirms back to bask in the sight of Lance in the flickering firelight. Their garden isn't exactly big, and is slightly worse for wear now that the English summer rain has been interspersed with actual sun to give the grass a growth spurt, but it's big enough for a bonfire which is all they need. The smell of it is somehow comforting.

"Beltaine is... well, sort of all about love and trust and stuff. I guess that's most of the festivals. Love, trust, nature and bonfires."

HERE WE GO

Beltaine | Modern AU